Last weekend, I nearly fainted on my way to a coffee shop during yet another scorching day in Chicago. I was puzzled; it was my first encounter with a heatwave of this intensity in America.
I gulped down two glasses of water, ordered an Italian soda, and found myself a seat. About an hour later, as I started to make my way back home, the sky turned cloudy. I cursed myself for not bringing an umbrella once again, despite being acutely aware of the city's moody weather.
As it began to drizzle, instead of feeling more stressed, I was overcome with nostalgia. The misty hot wind, the steam rising from cooling concrete, and the earthy smell of the soil—everything felt way too familiar.
Have you heard of "Loo"? No, not that one.
Back in Punjab, we call the summer heatwave "Loo", which often leads to heatstrokes and unbearable weather, coupled with random rainfall. The only respite is the approaching monsoon season.
After all these years away from Amritsar, I had nearly forgotten what it was like to live there—the city that defines my character, faith, values, and very (very) high standards for Indian food.
And please don't let me fool you; the summer weather there is torturous. But it was home.
By the time I reached my apartment building, I was completely drenched yet it felt oddly comforting.
So while the rest of Chicago, including myself, endures this hot week and waits for the return of the beautiful summer weather, a part of me can't help but cherish this fleeting feeling of being home.
To end the day, since I don't have a gramophone, I asked Alexa to play "Mitti Di Khushboo" by Ayushmann Khurrana.
Comments